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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748630">For whom the bell tolls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Principe_2014/pseuds/Principe_2014'>Principe_2014</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Female V (Cyberpunk 2077), Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, POV Alternating, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:21:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29748630</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Principe_2014/pseuds/Principe_2014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After five years in the Corpo rat race, V's career finally hits the obstacle she can't overcome. Cast out of Arasaka and onto the streets, the tiniest ray of hope materializes in the form of Jackie Welles. Can her childhood friend help put her shattered life back together? And what happens when dependence evolves into something more? The story of Jackie and Val, legends of Night City.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>V/Jackie Welles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Judgement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The burrito came up first.</p><p>That was no surprise; she'd nearly puked trying to get it down. Along with it came an assortment of half-digested pills. Reds, yellows, greens. The pink one she'd taken for her anxiety. The little blue ones her supervisor had added after she fainted twice in one meeting. The orange one that was supposed to cure her nausea. All of it came back up in a lime-green soup that left a bitter taste in her mouth.</p><p>A shaky hand reached for the faucet. It took her a second to recognize her red fingernails, chewed down as far as they could go while still within Arasaka regulations. She watched the remains of her only meal of the day disappear down the sink, taking her appetite with it.</p><p>
  <em>Gone down the drain. Just like Frankfurt.</em>
</p><p>The mirror whirred to life, revealing a pallid, corpse-like figure with vomit on its lips. Again, it took her a second to recognize herself.</p><p>The blue hair didn't help.</p><p><em>Turquoise. </em>She reminded herself, running trembling fingers through her smooth, formerly brown, hair. Her stylist hadn't been lying; two months in and her hair still caught the light in a way that made it glow. This morning she'd swept most of it to one side, brushing it into place on her way to work. It wasn't fancy, but it was neat. Almost presentable.</p><p>
  <em>Almost.</em>
</p><p>Here and there, a few odd strands clung to her sweaty forehead; bright blue juxtaposed against her pale skin. Tufts of it jutted out at odd angles, marking where she'd buried her fists in frustration. After a closer look, she couldn't miss where her hair had grown dry and sticky, where it tangled near the ears. To most of the world, she probably looked fine, maybe a little worn out. At Arasaka, people would look at her and see a dead woman walking.</p><p>Cupping her hands under the faucet, she splashed some water on her face, rubbing it deep into the rings around her eyes, wishing they'd disappear.</p><p>
  <em>Sleep, V. Sleep would make them disappear.</em>
</p><p>Her phone buzzed. It was Jackie.</p><p>"H-Hey."</p><p>"Something wrong, V?"</p><p>"My lunch decided it wasn't going down without a fight."</p><p>"What was it?"</p><p>"I dunno, a burrito?"</p><p>"Was that a question?" Jackie asked, sounding incredulous.</p><p>"That's what it said on the front. Got it out of a vending machine."</p><p>"V, I warned you about that processed junk. Have you ever heard of Dim sum?"</p><p>"Don't exactly have time to go shopping right now, Jackie."</p><p>"Don't have time for food? <em>Este trabajo te va a matar." </em>He muttered in Spanish. She didn't need the help, but her translator chip translated, left his words floating in air. <em>This job's going to kill you.</em></p><p>"You know, it actually tasted better coming back up than it did going down." Her lips twisted into a grimace. "I'm under a lot of pressure. Haven't even had the time to shower and I've already gone past my recommended dosage for norepinephrine. If Arasaka stock drops another half-point…"</p><p>"So this is about that Frankfurt mess? Damn, V, that's been the only thing scrolling across the news for two days now. Were you involved in that?"</p><p>V smirked at the mirror. Her lipstick had washed off, revealing the spot on her lip she'd been chewing on for the past week. She reached into her purse.</p><p>"You know I can't answer that." Her fingers trembled slightly as she applied a fresh coat of red to her pale, thin lips. "But something like that's gonna have everyone on edge. Some more than others."</p><p>He understood. Or atleast, she hoped his silence meant he understood. He needed to know it wasn't just her toe in this Frankfurt shitcake. She was knee-deep and sinking fast.</p><p>V started when the door to the bathroom flew open, and a man walked in.</p><p>"You know what, V? This might be your chance to get out."</p><p>"Not <em>again</em>, Jackie." She grumbled, turning back to the mirror.</p><p>"Tell them you're taking responsibility for the whole thing. Pack up your shit, throw those ridiculous shoes at that scumbag boss of yours and walk out."</p><p>A smile spread across V's lips, perhaps the first genuine one she'd had all week.</p><p>"Thanks, but you <em>know</em> I can't—"</p><p>"I can't, I can't, you know I can't. It's always about what you can't do, isn't it?"</p><p>"You don't just walk away from Arasaka."</p><p>Another pause. In the mirror, the man was standing behind her, arms crossed. He hadn't so much as glanced at the urinals. When he spotted her eying him, he gave her a look that made her heart sink.</p><p>"Can I help you?" She asked, finger brushing over her phone to end the call.</p><p>The man spoke in a low voice, with urgency. A long string of words that she couldn't make heads or tails of. Then he paused, asked her something else. She waited for her translator chip to make sense of what he was saying. The man tilted his head expectantly.</p><p>"How are you?" he repeated, and V realized he'd been speaking in heavily accented English. Explained why her translator hadn't kicked in.</p><p>"<em>I've been better</em>." She replied in Japanese. She'd never seen this man before.</p><p>"It is alright. We can converse in English." V nodded, and the man nodded back.</p><p>"I heard about Frankfurt, V." He moved to the sink beside her and turned on the faucet. "Messy business."</p><p>"We're getting it under control." V straightened up her hair and put away her lipstick. "Just a few more reports to go over and we'll know who messed up."</p><p><em>Me. </em>Nobody would ever find out what really caused the Frankfurt incident. For one, a mistake like this <em>couldn't </em>be one person's fault. There were too many people involved, too many factors out of their control. The whole operation was a shitshow from the start. Of course, Arasaka wasn't interested in finding out whose fault the botch was. Corpos didn't work like that. When it came to assigning blame, they'd scroll down their charts to find whoever had the lowest performance scores.</p><p>She'd chosen the worst time in history to try and go clean, to lay off the cognitive boosters and epi drips. Withdrawal symptoms had kept her on edge for a whole month, bringing her performance score down from a near-perfect 9.7 to a measly 7.4. Once Frankfurt had happened, she'd gone straight back to the meds, taking them at twice the recommended dosage just to keep up with everyone else. But it was too little, too late.</p><p>Frankfurt wasn't any one person's fault. But the report would sure as hell look that way.</p><p>"I can help with that, Ms. V. I can make sure...<em>someone else's name is on that report, highlighted in red</em>." He switched to Japanese halfway through his sentence. In the mirror, his eyes seemed to glow as they stared at her reflection. "<em>Maybe your co-workers, maybe your assistant.</em>"</p><p>"Nobody's going to believe this was Carter's fault." She snapped her purse shut before tucking it into her suit pocket. "And I'm not worried. We're very close to cracking this thing."</p><p>"I admire your spirit." The man took a step closer. In the mirror, his hands were only an inch away from her clenched fingers. She could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck, smell the scent of his expensive perfume. "I admire that in a woman. Especially in one as talented as you."</p><p>"I'm flattered." V muttered, turning towards the door. He didn't try to stop her, didn't even move.</p><p>"Not many of our employees can keep their cool as well as you can, V." He tentatively reached for her head. When she didn't react, he began to stroke her hair. Gently at first, but soon his hand took on a life of its own, travelling from her temple down to the nape of her neck in light, pitter-pattering touches that made her shudder.</p><p>His voice grew husky. The hand dipped lower.</p><p>"A few minutes. Maybe a half-hour." He whispered. V's eyes never left the mirror, where the man's reflection had shifted until it was right behind her. "And you'll never have to worry about being fired.</p><p>She didn't speak. Didn't move a muscle.</p><p>"Jenkins, Abernathy, they're all nothing, V. Pawns on a chessboard, bickering over who's sacrificed first." He was whispering directly into her neck now, the vibrations sending tingles down her spine. "But you're no pawn."</p><p>"I-I…" She swallowed hard. "What do you want?"</p><p>"A moment of your time." He whispered. "Just a few minutes."</p><p>He guided her towards the stalls, one hand in hers and the other nestled in her hair. She didn't move. His grip tightened.</p><p>"We can do it here, if you want." He slapped his hand against a sensor on the wall and the lights dimmed. The lock on the main door slid shut. He switched back to English. "Just listen to me. Do as I say." He boomed, in a voice that was not used to being ignored. His grip on her hair was painful now.</p><p>He pushed downwards, bowing her head, putting pressure on her knees. Red alerts flashed in the corner of V's sight; her heartrate was rising. Fast.</p><p>Part of her wanted to just give up, to allow her knees to buckle. This man, whoever he was, was powerful. Throwing her out on the streets would be nothing to him. All he'd have to do was tap two buttons in his AV while sipping champagne with his joytoy, and her career would be over. Her <em>life </em>would be over. No contacts, no recommendations, no termination notice. She'd be at the mercy of the streets.</p><p>The man smiled. He'd seen the desperation in her green eyes. It was why he'd followed her into the bathroom in the first place. His grip loosened and he planted a wet kiss on her forehead.</p><p>"On your knees. Now."</p><p>Her eyes snapped shut. Her knees folded. And a familiar voice began speaking over the phone.</p><p>"Heeeey asshole!" <em>Jackie?</em></p><p>The man whirled around, scanning the mirror, then the walls.</p><p>"Are you recording this?" He snapped, turning his attention back to her. He grabbed another fistful of her hair and shook her like a doll. "Is this a set up?"</p><p>"Listen up, asshole. I've got a full scroll of your horndog antics locked and loaded. If you don't get the fuck off her right now, the whole world's gonna see what Arasaka pays you to do."</p><p>The man paled. He didn't seem to notice when V twisted out of his grip.</p><p>"My netrunners will sniff you out." He threatened through gritted teeth. "You'll end up a grease-stain on the sidewalk."</p><p>"Let her go, choom."</p><p>The man's furious eyes turned towards her, then back to the phone. He rocked in place for a moment, weighing his options.</p><p>"I-I've got a meeting with Jenkins in ten minutes." V croaked, moving to the running faucet. Her mascara was starting to run.</p><p>The man spat out a stream of angry Japanese. She knew the meanings of most of the insults, and her chip helped her out with the rest. The translations hovered in the mirror beside his reddening face. <em>Slut. Whore. Cunt. </em>She knew Jackie could hear it all, and her heart sank further.</p><p>"You're already finished." The man spat, heading for the door.</p><p>"Yeah, I'll see you soon, choom." Jackie called in response. The moment the man left the bathroom, V reached for the phone.</p><p>"Jackie? Jackie you still there?"</p><p>After a short pause, he spoke.</p><p>"Yeah, I'm here."</p><p>"Jackie, listen. I don't want you to do anything stupid. Things are bad enough for me right now. If word gets out that one of my contractors assaulted an Arasaka employee…"</p><p>Another pause. Longer.</p><p>"Relax, <em>chica. </em>How long have we known each other? You really think I'd do something that stupid?"</p><p>V smiled. In the mirror, her reflection came alive for a few seconds, though she looked like a mugging victim. Her hair was a tangled mess; clumped up where it had been grabbed, curled and twisted where she'd pulled and struggled in the man's grip. Black streaks ran down her cheeks, and her eyes were red-rimmed and swollen. An alert appeared, reminding her about the meeting she had in five minutes.</p><p>"No, Jackie. I <em>know </em>you'd do something stupid. Remember that time in Tijuana?"</p><p>"Those guys were drunk, V. I beat some sense into them."</p><p>"This is nothing, Jackie. Just another shark sniffing after blood." She splashed some water on her face and let it drip off onto the counter. "And I'm bleeding plenty right now."</p><p>"V, listen to me. You don't have to−"</p><p>"I don't need a lecture right now!" V snapped, her heartrate rising again.</p><p>"That gonk you were talking to right now. Would you have done it?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"If he could save your job, would you have done it?"</p><p>
  <em>Warning. Heartrate exceeding acceptable parameters. Acetylcholine administered.</em>
</p><p>V sighed as a flood of hormones washed over her, leaving her feeling calm and collected. Or atleast, as calm and collected as she could be considering the circumstances.</p><p>"I'm going to have to call in all my favors, Jackie. Every single one." She leaned closer to the mirror, made sure her eye shadow was perfect and her hair was as straight as she could make it. "Meet me at Lizzie's, tonight."</p><p>"What? You? At a bar?"</p><p>"Please, Jackie. I really need you this time."</p><p>"I'll be there, I promise. 8 o'clock."</p><p>"And Jackie?"</p><p>"Yeah?"</p><p>"Can we forget this thing ever happened? Please?"</p><p>A long pause. Maybe the longest yet.</p><p>"Fine. Deleted and forgotten about."</p><p>"Thanks. 8 o'clock."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Hanged Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arthur Jenkins was a lot of things to a lot of people.</p><p>In the biz, he was a legend. The tall, strong-jawed face of Arasaka's formidable counter-intelligence operation. Around the world, hundreds of plots ended before they even began, murdered by orders sent from his desk.</p><p>To his coterie of assistants, receptionists, and interns, he was a nightmare. More than one maid had come running out of his room, in tears with a hand pressed to their cheek. Others would quit without a word, looking gaunt and pale as they stumbled out of the office. She'd heard a rumor, passed around in hushed whispers at the bathroom sink, that he'd short-circuited a maid's ocular implants with a one angry look. The woman disappeared and Mr. Jenkins, as he was known to the staff, never had to pick lint off his suit again.</p><p>To V, he'd always been 'Sir'. Jenkins, on those rare occasions when she caught him in a good mood. Arthur, during that one time he'd tried to drag her onto the couch, one hand on his belt. But most of the time, he was just 'Sir'. It was what he'd asked her to call him five years ago, when she'd met him at a restaurant she'd never afford wearing clothes their janitor wouldn't be caught dead in.</p><p>"V. Here to see Mr. Jenkins." The lady behind the desk was new and sporting a perfect hairstyle with a red, oriental dress that dipped down as far as Arasaka's rigid dress code would let it. Her eyes landed on V's hair first, her expression growing more skeptical as they traveled down to her face.</p><p>"How are you feeling?" She asked, without a hint of concern in her voice.</p><p>"Good, thanks for asking." V shifted impatiently. "I'm scheduled for a meeting in a minute, aren't I?"</p><p>The lady's eyes flicked to her screen, then back to V.</p><p>"No, I'm sorry. I don't see anything for you—" She cupped one hand over her ear. "Give me a moment."</p><p>V nodded and tapped out a tune on the desk, trying to get her emotions in check. At first, the receptionist gave her an irritated look. But as the voice on the other end of the call grew louder, her eyes grew wide and she forgot all about V.</p><p>"No, Mr. Jenkins." The receptionist glanced back at the screen. "She's not scheduled to meet you."</p><p>A barrage of insults filtered through the earpiece. The receptionist winced, then covered her mouth as Jenkins' voice grew louder. V tapped out Handel's Water music overture on her desk.</p><p>"I can't—" Another string of curses came over the line. "Yes, Mr. Jenkins. Of course. I'll send her in right away."</p><p>She turned away from her screen, furiously blinking back tears.</p><p>"Miss V?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Mr. Jenkins will see you now." She looked dazed. V figured she hadn't got the memo on why this job was vacant in the first place.</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>The receptionist didn't reply, but the doors to Jenkins' office opened. With a deep breath, she stepped inside.</p>
<hr/><p>"V. Have a seat." Jenkins was on a phone call.</p><p>V nodded and headed to her usual seat by the window.</p><p>"I don't want to hear that from you." Jenkins snapped, phone clutched tight in his fingers. "Not from you, no. After Istanbul, you've got some nerve."</p><p>V stared out the window, taking in the cityscape. No matter how many hours she spent staring, she'd never get used to seeing Night City from above. As children, her and Jackie would sit together at the waterfront and watch the AVs fly thousands of feet above their heads, each carrying a person with more eddies in their pocket than both their neighborhoods combined.</p><p>"Just one good job, V." He'd whisper. The moonlight reflected off the water and lit up his eyes when he looked at her. "We'll be just like them."</p><p>She remembered looking up at the flying cars, little more than specks in the night sky. The skyscrapers, reaching up so far she couldn't tell where they ended. She remembered feeling small, powerless. No job was big enough to get the two of them up there. Those people lived on different planets. People like her and Jackie weren't meant to fly that high. They were meant to crawl and scrape their way up, clawing at the boots of people like Arthur Jenkins.</p><p>"—call me in ten. If it's not over by then, I'll listen to your shit." Jenkins tossed his phone across the room and V rose to retrieve it.</p><p>"Forget about it." He waved for her to sit down. "Drink something?"</p><p>"No thank you, sir."</p><p>Jenkins nodded, then brought over two glasses of whiskey anyways. He placed one in front of her and sat down in his armchair with the other.</p><p>"Now tell me."</p><p>"Sir, I've been on the wire with three different departments. Nobody knows—"</p><p>"Not <em>that</em>, V." A hint of irritation crept into his voice. "Tell me about yourself."</p><p>"Me, sir?"</p><p>"Yes, you. What brought you into that restaurant all those years ago?"</p><p>"I'm sorry? Sir, I don't under—"</p><p>"Then allow me to simplify, V. What gets you out of bed in the morning?" He took a healthy sip of his drink. "What do you want to be?"</p><p>"I-I don't understand, sir." This was <em>not </em>the conversation she'd prepped for. She'd spent the last few hours poring over the reports, searching for something, <em>anything </em>to point a finger at.</p><p><em>Here's the problem sir. It was a netrunning error sir. Don't fire me sir. </em>Even in her head, her pitch sounded pathetic. It was still better than what was coming out of her mouth right now.</p><p>Jenkins sighed, a deep, drawn out sigh that made her heart sink. Her eyes returned to the window. From where she sat, all she could see were skyscrapers and hundred-foot ads, AVs and police drones. It was easy to imagine that this was all there was to Night City. Bright lights and million-eddy vehicles.</p><p>But she was born to a different world, a different planet. And if she went a little closer to the window, lowered her eyes, she'd see them.</p><p>The streets.</p><p>"I'm disapp—"</p><p>"I don't know what I want to be, sir. But I know I don't want to go back to where I came from." She looked him straight in the eyes. "I'll do anything to stay where I am."</p><p>Jenkins gave her a long, hard look. She held his gaze, fighting to keep her face straight. There was a part of her that wanted to beg. To let the tears fall, let him see just how much this job meant to her. And if she let that side win, she'd be terminated within the hour.</p><p>"That's exactly what I wanted to hear, V. You're an ambitious woman." He leaned forward, nudged the drink towards her. "It's why I brought you here, and why I need you now more than ever."</p><p>"Anyth—"</p><p>"Shh." He pointed to a wallscreen. "This is it."</p><p>The screen flicked on to show a boardroom. Men and women, grim faces and crossed arms. She'd been in plenty of meetings like this one; if it hadn't been for the uniforms, she might have believed the meeting was taking place at Arasaka. But she recognized the insignia emblazoned on every blazer. The European Space Council.</p><p>"And now, the magic." Jenkins whispered. At some point in the conversation, he'd placed his hand on top of her thigh. In the other, he held a remote. "Watch."</p><p>He clicked a button and half the suits in the room collapsed immediately, sparks flying from their neck. Instinctively, her hand flew to her own neural socket.</p><p>"W-What did you do?"</p><p>"Finished it." The boardroom was in full panic. Translations for a dozen languages filled the screen as lifeless bodies were pulled out of their seats by panicked attendants.</p><p>V opened her mouth but Jenkins silenced her with a finger to his lips. He pointed to his intercom. Almost on cue, an incoming call appeared.</p><p>"Director Abernathy." Jenkins took another long sip of whiskey. "How can I help you?"</p><p>"I was watching the vote, Arthur. What the fuck was that?"</p><p>"I solved our problem. They were going to revoke our licenses. Now we've got a week."</p><p>"Sloppy. Careless." Jenkins' hand clenched into a fist on her lap. "I expected nothing better from you."</p><p>"And you're as lovely as ever. Still taking credit for my work I see."</p><p>"Your work? Your <em>work?</em> You have any idea how many strings I'll have to pull to cover this up?"</p><p>"We all do our part, Director."</p><p>"We're not done talking about this, Arthur."</p><p>"You have a good day, Susan. Tell your kids I said hello."</p><p>"We're not done talking about this."</p><p>Jenkins flicked a finger to end the call, then turned back to V.</p><p>"So? What do you think?"</p><p>"What was that?"</p><p>"A daemon in the neural stabilization system." Jenkins leaned back in his chair. "I just bought us a whole week to clean up our Lunar operations."</p><p>"And Frankfurt?"</p><p>"Gone. Done and dusted. Yesterday's news." He cracked a rare smile. "I've got a team searching for the leak as we speak. Everything related to the operation's being wiped."</p><p>Two days of stress dissipated in an instant and left V feeling light-headed. The thirty pages worth of reports in her hands, the performance reviews, the debriefs, the accusations, the leak. Everything would be gone by the end of the day. There would be no record of the Frankfurt incident at Arasaka, except maybe in some triple-encrypted black box server in Tokyo. And the screamsheets would move on, first to the ESC meeting, then to the newest life-extending implants or the latest celebrity overdose.</p><p>"Sir, I don't know what to say."</p><p>"You could start by thanking me." Jenkins rose to his feet and moved behind his desk.</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>"Ah, not like that." He pulled a data shard out of a drawer and offered it to her. "Slot it in."</p><p>"What is it?"</p><p>"A sign of my trust, V. Slot it in."</p><p>V reached for the shard. Names, faces, numbers, blueprints and more flickered across her vision when she slotted it in. One name stood out among all the rest.</p><p>"Susan Abernathy?"</p><p>"That's right. I've been collecting information on her for years. Everything's on that chip."</p><p>Her stomach twisted; the relief disappeared in an instant. She felt stupid for thinking there wouldn't' be a catch. If Jenkins was protecting her, it wasn't because he cared about her life or her work ethic. It wasn't even that he liked the way her thighs quivered under his palm. No, Arthur Jenkins had only ever seen one use for the woman from Watson who had an eye for making plans and the contacts to carry them out. </p><p>She was his dirty little secret, his ace in the hole. The reason his enemies always seemed to disappear for one reason or another. Why his position at the top of Arasaka Counterintelligence had always seemed unassailable, until Abernathy had backstabbed him in front of the board to snatch the Director position away from him. </p><p>"You can't mean what I think you mean." She whispered, eyes circling the room. "This is suicide."</p><p>"I want it done quickly and quietly." Jenkins dropped a wad of eddies in front of her. "Pay them in cash."</p><p>"If word of this gets out—"</p><p>"<em>Sir.</em>" There was no trace of a smile left. "And word won't get out. Not unless we have another <em>leak.</em>"</p><p>Her blood ran cold. The look he was giving her now was more than capable of popping implants.</p><p>"<em>Sir</em>, you think I had something to do with that?" V ignored the warnings popping up on her feed. Blood pressure was the least of her concerns. "I had no access to any of the information the Frankfurt branch had. Not until <em>after</em> they'd confirmed a leak and dumped the whole mess on my desk!"</p><p>"Remind me, V. What department do you work in?"</p><p>"Counterintelligence. Sir."</p><p>"Whose job is it to find leaks before they leak shit over all our desks?"</p><p>"Mine, sir."</p><p>"I've seen the reports, V." He held up a datapad. She spotted her name near the bottom, highlighted in red. "You've been slated for termination."</p><p>
  <em>Warning. Heartrate exceeding acceptable parameters. Daily acetylcholine dosage limit reached.</em>
</p><p>"Sir, <em>please. </em>Give me a chance to clean this up."</p><p>Jenkins glanced at the report.</p><p>"Why were you off your meds? For a whole month?"</p><p>"I-It's stupid, sir. Something a friend of mine suggested."</p><p>"We don't hire stupid at Arasaka, V. <em>I </em>don't hire stupid."</p><p>"Yes sir."</p><p>"You remember why you're here? Where you come from?"</p><p>"Yes sir."</p><p>"That's good, V. Very good." He emptied his glass and reached for hers. "That means you'll do what I asked. I know you will."</p><p>"It'll take time, sir. I'll need to put together a crew, scour the streets."</p><p>"Do that. Make sure you pick someone who knows the Arasaka playbook inside and out. I don't want you in the same <em>district </em>when this goes off."</p><p>"Of course, sir." She picked up the cash. "I'll get it done, sir."</p><p>"I know you will, V." Jenkins' hand slipped off her lap as she rose, sliding up to her rear for a moment before landing on the sofa. "Feel free to use my personal AV."</p><p>"You want me to leave now?"</p><p>Jenkins nodded, glancing up from his phone.</p><p>"I've cancelled all your appointments, meetings, performance reviews, everything."</p><p>"I just thought—I mean—I'd hoped for some more time…" Her voice died in her throat at the look on his face.</p><p>"Can you do this, V? Or do I need to look somewhere else?"</p><p>"I can, sir."</p><p>"Then I've got a call to make. I trust you can see yourself out?" And just like that, he turned his back to her. As if he hadn't just massacred the European Space Council with the click of a button. As if he hadn't just handed her a chip that could end both their careers and their lives.</p><p>As if he hadn't just asked her to murder his boss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Justice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Chin up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Back straight.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Short, even breaths.</em>
</p><p>"V, I've got those reports you asked for."</p><p>She didn't miss a beat. Eyebrows folded, lips pressed tight. She’s playing the part of a disappointed boss right now.</p><p>"I asked for these yesterday, Carter."</p><p>"I have them now." Her personal assistant offered her a sheepish grin along with a datapad.</p><p>"Send them to my terminal. I'm busy."</p><p>"Is this about Frankfurt? V, are you alright?"</p><p>She ignored him, taking long, measured steps to get as much distance between her and Jenkins' office. Unfortunately, Carter had legs of his own. Long ones.</p><p>"You're sweating. Do you need me to schedule a meeting with—"</p><p>"I'm <em>fine</em>, Carter, and I'll be even more fine once I see your report on my desk."</p><p>"Right!" He spun around, suddenly a determined, helpful missile headed straight for her office.</p><p>V stood and watched him leave. Her scanner reminded her that Carter's performance score was a solid 8.4, a whole point higher than hers. His behavior had never struck her as odd before. Young and bright, Carter's weakness had always been his indecisiveness. Everything from the temperature of her morning coffee to the tire pressure in her car seemed to require her stamp of approval. It was a trait common among new, inexperienced employees; most grew out of it over time.</p><p>But after her conversation with Jenkins, she eyed Carter's retreating form with a degree of suspicion. Her assistant knew her job inside and out and he'd been assigned to her by Jenkins himself. Had her boss been grooming him as a replacement? Or was he just as incompetent as he seemed?</p><p>"Wait! Did you want me to put the datapad on your desk <em>and </em>send the report to you?"</p><p>"Good question, Carter. I expect an answer by tomorrow morning." V replied, turning away before he could think to ask anything else. That settled it. She was being paranoid about Carter, about Jenkins. It was barely six and she was already pushing past most of her hormone thresholds. Of course she wasn’t thinking straight.</p><p>V didn't so much enter Jenkins' AV as she did collapse into it. The onboard AI scanned her while she leaned against the window.</p><p>"Authorization granted. Please select a destination."</p><p>"Lizzie's bar." She grunted. "Time of arrival?"</p><p>"Due to relatively heavy traffic in the Downtown sector and a power failure in Santo Domingo, a fifteen-minute delay is to be expected. Estimated time of arrival: 6:30."</p><p>That left her with just enough time for a quick nap before her meeting with Jackie. Her eyes loved that idea, and were half-closed before the AV took off.</p><p>
  <em>Norepinephrine. 30 mL drip.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Warning. Norepinephrine dosage limit exceeded.</em>
</p><p>With a hint of regret, V authorized an override of her hormone drip system. She needed to be awake for just a little longer.</p><p>As the hormones flooded through her body and jumpstarted her weary mind, the AV pulled out of the hangar and entered the sky. The first time she'd travelled in Jenkins' AV had been a nightmare. Nervous and jittering with excitement, she'd hopped onboard with more than a few hormonal imbalances. When she'd peeked out the window to see the city streets hundreds of feet below, something snapped inside, and she'd blown chunks all over the window. The look on Jenkins' face when he opened the door to find her on her knees wiping vomit off the seats still sent shivers down her spine.</p><p>She'd more or less gotten used to the sudden burst of vertigo that came with hovering a thousand feet above solid ground, although she was still careful not to avert her eyes. Instead, she allowed herself a moment to enjoy the moving picture that was Night City. There were only a handful of people who'd get to see this side of the city. Far above the violence and poverty of the streets, Night City was…beautiful. No wonder every Corpo building tried to reach the sky.</p><p>"Give me the news. N54."</p><p>"One moment…"</p><p>V grabbed some champagne while she waited. The glass was cool to touch, chilled to a perfect 45 degrees. She held it in a claw-grip, three fingers caressing the bowl like she'd seen Jenkins do in the past. She swirled the golden liquid, parted her lips slightly. She didn't dare take a sip, not from his personal collection. But nobody could stop her from pretending.</p><p>"A catastrophic failure of the neural stabilization system at a meeting of the European Space Council has left five dead and three injured. The scheduled vote on the renewal of lunar base licenses for major corporations, including Arasaka and Militech, has been postponed indefinitely. Early reports indicate the malfunctioning neural chips were manufacturing by Biotechnica. Officials from the company were unwilling to comment. In other news, the screening of the critically acclaimed French film—"</p><p>"Enough." <em>So that’s how she did it. </em>As much as she hated Abernathy, V had to admit the Director of Counterintelligence was good at what she did. Her company newsfeed put public suspicion of the company at 10 percent. For the foreign boogeyman of Night City, those were stellar numbers. Somehow, Abernathy had managed to take the big finger pointed Arasaka's way and twist it towards Biotechnica.</p><p>An incoming call interrupted her thoughts. It was her Life Coach. She put the champagne away in a hurry, flicking her wrist to answer the call.</p><p>"Hey. Thought we didn't have a meet scheduled until next week."</p><p>"Quantified Satori notified me about irregularities in your readings. I thought I'd give you a call. How are things?"</p><p>"Things? Things are shit."</p><p>"Just remember the neuromotor exercises we talked about. Three times a day or whenever you feel stressed."</p><p>"Right, thanks." V hung up quickly, knowing every second of her coach's time came out of her paycheck. Sometimes it helped to talk things out with him, just to clear her head. Her coach wasn't always the greatest listener, but he understood corpo life better than anyone else she knew. She'd turned to him whenever a bottle of Arasaka meds and a book weren’t enough to cope with the stress. His response was usually brief, and always had something to do with stretching or deep breathing exercises or the latest Arasaka stim-pill. But having someone call to check up on her, even if they were being paid a fortune for it, felt nice.</p><p>Still, it wasn't like she could just spill her guts on what was bothering her.</p><p>
  <em>Hey coach, sorry if I sound down, it's just my boss asked me to kill his boss. You might know her, actually. Susan Abernathy, Director of Counterintelligence?</em>
</p><p>No, this wasn't the kind of problem you solved with neuromotor exercises and long, expensive talks.</p><p>V stretched out on the seat, letting loose the yawn she'd been holding in all day. Taking down Abernathy wouldn't be easy. Heck, if everything on the data shard was true it might not even be possible. But Jackie had never let her down, not since the day he'd offered her a synthsnack on the steps of Heywood Elementary. If anyone could figure something out, it would be him. All she could do right now was try and get some sleep.</p>
<hr/><p>V woke to the sound of shooting, muffled by the AV's bulletproof walls. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she checked the exterior cams one by one. Then she double-checked them, because according to the footage and the navigation system, the AV was parked in the middle of a basketball court. And the time was 8:30.</p><p>She stumbled out of the AV, not bothering to check if the gunfire she'd heard was heading her way. If Jackie was already gone, a couple of bullets would have been the least of her worries. Thankfully, the shootout was happening somewhere down the street. Jackie had always called gunfire "the music of Night City", and it seemed like Watson was giving her a whole welcome orchestra. She tried to take her mind off the noise and focus instead on her reflection in her pocket-mirror.</p><p>Sleep had left her hair smushed flat, and she was busy trying to straighten it when the basketball was thrust into her hands. The man who'd given her the gift towered over her, flexing arms thicker than her waist. He was flanked on either side by his chooms, each looking like they'd walked off a muscle magazine.</p><p>"What's your problem, psychosuit?" There was a malevolent glint in his eye, a tension in the bulging muscles of his arm that warned her not to take a step further. She was on <em>his</em> turf.</p><p>A raw, primal fear sprouted at the base of her neck, sending shivers down her hands. Her fingers trembled around the basketball as the reality of the situation set in. Heavy, tattooed fists that could crush her ribcage with one blow. Massive, curled fingers he could use to choke the life out of her…</p><p>
  <em>Warning: Verbal threat detected. </em>
</p><p>She coughed, bent over slightly as a burst of adrenaline hit her system. Her lungs pumped harder, synth-tissue boosting her oxygen intake. The implants in her arms tightened, her vision cleared. New strength vitalized her sleep-deprived body, tensing her muscles into a state of absolute readiness while her ocular implants began to size up her enemy.</p><p>"I've had a shitty day. I've got no time for this." She said, brushing past the man in front. Whether the confidence was a side-effect of the meds pumping through her veins or some hidden reserve of courage she’d tapped into, it certainly caught him by surprise. He backed up, bumping into one of his friends. The three of them exchanged looks.</p><p>"Hey! Get back here bitch!" One of the three, she didn't see which one, grabbed her arm.</p><p>V whirled around, using her momentum to smash the basketball into the face of the one closest to her. There was a distinct crunch as his nose broke and he crumpled to the ground. Without missing a beat she threw a punch that slid right under the second man's chin, crushing his windpipe. She glared at the last one.</p><p>"H-Hey, we don't want no trouble with no corp." He stuttered, backing up until he was pressed tight against the far wall.</p><p>V smiled to herself, twirling the ball on the tip of her finger as she headed for the entrance to Lizzie's. On the ground, one of her would-be assailants curled into a ball with his hands pressed against his face. The other wasn't moving at all. She spun on the tip of her heels, her implants giving her more poise than any ballerina. Halfway through her turn, she tossed the basketball at the hoop across the court. She nearly giggled when the ball went straight in, hitting nothing but net.</p><p>"Looks like trouble wants in." The woman at the door hefted a neon-pink baseball bat on her shoulder. "And by the way, the court's not a landing pad."</p><p>"They came onto me." V answered with a shrug. "And your club doesn't <em>have</em> a landing pad."</p><p>"We don't have a place for suits, either." The bouncer nodded towards the AV. "Maybe you should just fly on out of here."</p><p>"I'm here to meet Jackie Welles."</p><p>"That name supposed to mean something?"</p><p>"No. But I have business with him. And the sooner I'm able to meet him, the quicker you'll be rid of me."</p><p>The woman went silent, shifting the bat from shoulder to shoulder. V tapped her heels on the floor, resisting the urge to force her way past. Her implants were flashing warning signs, alerting her to the high-end gear the woman was packing. She doubted the stunt she'd pulled on the court would work here.</p><p>"Fine. Go in. But I'll be watching you." The woman shook the bat under V's nose before moving aside.</p><p>V didn't know what to expect from Lizzie's. She certainly hadn't selected the bar for its five-star reviews; quite the opposite. Watson's smoggy atmosphere, cheap booze and sky-high crime rate would ensure her meeting wouldn't be interrupted by any coworkers.</p><p>Besides, V thought as she jostled and jabbed her way down the steps, if Watson didn't scare them off, the atmosphere certainly would. The lighting at Lizzie's looked like what would happen if someone downed liquid neon before running down the halls barfing. The stench of stale beer and smoke from unfiltered cigarettes took her back to the days she'd spent with Jackie, hunting for odd jobs before she caught her big break at Arasaka.</p><p>"V!"</p><p>Relief flooded through her system when she spotted her best friend waving at her from a corner booth. Carefully stepping over a passed-out patron with a BD wreath on their head, she slid into the booth.</p><p>"How's it going, Jackie?"</p><p>"Was thinkin' you weren't going to show." He gestured to the dozen empty shot glasses lined up on the table.</p><p>"You didn't…"</p><p>"Relax, chica. It's just water." He gestured for her to lean in close. "And if I order one more, I think the bartender's gonna strangle me."</p><p>V glanced at the bar. Sure enough, the bartender was staring daggers at the two of them, polishing glasses vigorously. Jackie waved over a waitress.</p><p>"I'll have two tequilas with lime. Ice on the side."</p><p>Th moment the waitress was out of earshot, V leaned over the table.</p><p>"Jackie, before I tell you anything I need your word. Nothing about this gets out." She whispered. "The data on this chip could end me."</p><p>"How long have we known each other, V?"</p><p>"<em>Please</em>."</p><p>"Fine." Jackie shook his head and looked away. "You didn't need to ask."</p><p>"I'm trusting you." She offered him the data shard. Jackie stared at it.</p><p>"Your fingers are shaking."</p><p>He was right. Before V could pull her hands away, they were captured between Jackie’s strong fingers. They were warm, almost unbearably so. The man in the bathroom, Jenkins, even the thugs on the court had cold, clammy fingers. His touch felt cleansing, chasing away the nausea that had followed her out of the Arasaka bathroom with its unbelievable warmth.</p><p>Her stupid, ganic heart began to beat its own rhythm, no doubt confusing the hell out of her biomonitor. Jackie’s grip tightened, embedding her cold, sweaty palms in a cocoon of warmth. What would those fingers feel like on her thigh? She wondered, heartrate rising, legs rubbing together.</p><p>She swallowed hard when his green eyes landed on her face. A small ghost of a smile turned the corner of his lip, sending her into a small panic. Was she sweating? Panting? <em>Oh god was she panting? </em></p><p>“I think it’s working V. Just let all that stress out.”</p><p>She nodded, swallowing again, trying to keep her heart steady. There were a dozen hormone drips running through her veins, each hitting her head in a different way. One of them was obviously responsible for the heat between her legs, the desire lighting up in her core. She’d have to schedule a meeting with Quantified Satori, get her biomonitor readings checked.</p><p>As the waitress came by with their drinks, Jackie finally let her hand slip out of his. It fell to the table and remained there for almost a full minute before V remembered to pick it up.</p><p>"W-What was that?" she muttered, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.</p><p>"A little trick I picked up from Misty. It's supposed to pull out all your negative energy." Jackie smiled, holding up the datashard. "Cheers, V."</p><p>It felt like an eternity, but V figured it was only a few minutes before Jackie spoke.</p><p>"You'll need a runner. A good one." He chewed on his lip, staring up into space. "Hitting her at home is out of the question, so we'll need a driver too. Everyone's getting paid in hard eddies, half up-front."</p><p>"I've got the cash."</p><p>"And you'll need somebody to pull the trigger."</p><p>"Someone I can trust. Someone with solid aim whose done this sort of thing before."</p><p>"She's got children. Two of them."</p><p>"The route she takes to work isn't very well guarded. NCPD, maybe a few drones hovering by." V muttered, drawing out the plan on the table.</p><p>"Watson Elementary. Don't think she's married, either."</p><p>"She won't have much of a security detail. Would draw too much attention."</p><p>"Did you hear what I said?"</p><p>"Yeah, I fucking heard you." She snapped, finally looking up to meet his accusing eyes. "Can you do it or not?"</p><p>He looked at her, expression unreadable. The chip lay in his palm, his hand rising and falling as he weighed his options.</p><p>"V, I don't think you know what you've gotten yourself into here."</p><p>"Don't start. Don't lecture me."</p><p>"It's not a lecture. Or heck, maybe it is."</p><p>"I don't need one. Not right now."</p><p>"You know my hands aren't clean, V. I've done shit I'm not proud of." He dropped the shard on the table. "But this just ain't my style."</p><p>"Your style?" V barked out a laugh. "What, you trying out for Watson Whore? Trying to look pretty for the judges?"</p><p>His face lit up with red anger.</p><p>"That's not—"</p><p>"Let me tell you what I'm hearing right now, <em>Jackie.</em> What I'm hearing is a big pile of bullshit."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Yes, <em>really</em>.” She hissed, ignoring the eyes that flew her way. “If you can't do the job, just fucking admit it. I'll go find someone better."</p><p>"This gig stinks to high heaven, V. Nobody's going to touch it."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"Tell me this. Let's say we pull this off. Abernathy, zeroed. What's stopping your boss from fingering you for the murder?"</p><p>V froze, her furious counter dead on the tip of her tongue. Not because she didn’t know the answer to his question. She’d always been Jenkins’ biggest loose end, the one he’d have to bury if the Arasaka higher-ups ever started sniffing his way. She knew the risk that came with doing his dirty work.</p><p>But risk had <em>never </em>stopped Jackie from taking a job from her. He’d closed out dozens of missions for her, putting more bodies in the ground than she could count. If he was starting to doubt her now, when she needed him most…</p><p>“Every job I do for Jenkins has its risks, Jackie. You <em>know </em>this.”</p><p>“Risk for me, sure. But this time, the risk’s on you too, V. Once your boss makes Director, what does he need you for?”</p><p>V’s mouth opened and closed, thinking furiously but in vain. There wasn’t much of a response to <em>that. </em></p><p>"You take the fall; he takes the promotion. And if I take this job, I might as well bury you myself."</p><p>Her fingers began to tremble; her lip wobbled. The image of a functional woman she’d stitched for the world to see was coming apart at the seams. Jackie was her last hope, the one card she knew she could always play. If she didn’t have him, she had nothing.</p><p>"Jackie." There was something in her voice that caught his attention. He looked up from the table to see tears in her eyes. "<em>Please.</em>"</p><p>"Don't do this to me, <em>chica</em>. This is for your own good."</p><p>"Jackie, I'm begging you." She let it all out, all her desperation and exhaustion and frustration. All the tears she’d masked behind makeup, the soft cries she’d extinguished when Jenkins’ fingers reached too far. She’d come too far and endured too much to let this be the end. She could see it working, see his defenses beginning to crack. "Don't let me down, <em>please</em>."</p><p>"Even if—"</p><p>"I just need you to try. Promise me you'll try<em>."</em></p><p>"V, I—" Guilt was gnawing at his conscience, visible in his darting eyes. She hated to see it, hated herself for putting Jackie in this position. "I'll try. If it’s that important to you."</p><p>"Thank you, Jackie. That's all I need right now." She held onto his hand, looked him in the eyes. "I knew I could count on you."</p><p><em>Bitch. Cold, manipulative, corpo bitch.</em> Her smile grew wider, warmer, faker. He smiled back, halfheartedly.</p><p>"It'll still be tough, V. And I think you should get fitted with a BD rec implant or something. Make sure you've got something to link your boss to the hit."</p><p>"And maybe you should give your tequila the attention it deserves." She countered, poking him in the chest. She’s playing the part of the playful friend right now. "It's waited long enough."</p><p>"Drink with me, V. Just this one time."</p><p>"Still don't drink." She slid her shot glass towards him. "But by all means, tell me how it tastes."</p><p>Jackie rolled his eyes, raised both glasses.</p><p>"Your loss, girl. What're we toasting to?"</p><p>"This fucked up situation of ours." V replied in a heartbeat, raising an imaginary glass. Jackie nodded, clinked both his glasses together.</p><p>"To this." He downed both at once, wiping his lips with the back of his sleeve. His eyes flicked behind her, his expression grew solemn. "And to the three corpo gonks who just walked in."</p><p>"What?" V fought the urge to spin around. "You sure they're suits?"</p><p>"Look more like huscle to me. Heading this way." Jackie straightened up. "Want me to take care of them?"</p><p>"No!" She reached out for his arm, pulling him back into the seat. "Just stay quiet. They might not be here for me."</p><p>"They're heading this way, V."</p><p>Her fingers closed around the data shard. Did Jenkins give her up? Or had Abernathy somehow found out what they'd discussed? Her heart pounded as the trio came closer, stepping into her field of view. They were obviously Arasaka, each sporting spotless red-and-black suits and matching red tac-visors. The one in front stepped right up to her.</p><p>"Hey, is there a problem?" Jackie asked, taking a step forward. One of the others intercepted him, visor glowing.</p><p>"Jackie, don't."</p><p>"V. You were assigned to a task by Jenkins this evening."</p><p>"Was I?" She leaned back in her seat. "I don't recall."</p><p>"You were given a datashard with information on this task."</p><p>"I'm still drawing a blank. I report directly to Jenkins, you see, and I don't kn—hey!"</p><p>The man grabbed her arm, his eyes glowing. V jerked in his grip, pulling with enough force to rip a man in half. He smirked, then let go. Her hand dropped to the seat, limp. Her arm felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.</p><p>"You have one hour before all company-issued cyberware and implants become fully inactive."</p><p>V could barely hear him, barely hear anything over the ringing in her ears. Her heart spasmed uncontrollably, confused by the sudden absence of hormones. She doubled over as her heartrate skyrocketed, then ground to a slow crawl, then rose again.</p><p>"V, you ok?"</p><p>"The datashard. Now."</p><p>Taking deep, shaky breaths, V's fingers fumbled on the table, searching for the shard. In the corner of her eye, her display updated her as a hundred and twenty thousand eddies disappeared from her bank account, seized by Arasaka. Her company newsfeed, biomonitor, market analytics; each one winked out of existence as her connection to the company was terminated.</p><p>She held up the shard, offered it to the man. He plucked it out of her fingers and slotted it in.</p><p>"We're good." He turned to her. "This concludes your termination process."</p><p>"W-Wait." She gasped, one hand clutched to her chest. The other reached for the man's arm. "Let me speak to—" Violent coughing forced her to double over again as the synthetic tissue in her lungs shut down. Her chest heaved, trying to make up for the sudden lack of oxygen.</p><p>"Our orders are to secure the chip." To V's rebooting implants, he was little more than a silhouette. "But I think Abernathy would pay us extra to get rid of trash like you."</p><p>A hand landed on her shoulder, putting pressure on her bone, crushing tissue beneath its fingers. If V had the air to spare, she would have screamed herself hoarse as jolts of pain shot up her shoulder, no longer dulled by auto-injected painkillers.</p><p>"Hold on there, cabron." Jackie couldn't have been more than few feet away, but his voice sounded distant. "You're a long way from home, aren't you?"</p><p>"Are you threatening me?" One of the agents demanded.</p><p>"I'm just saying, I don't think this barrio is your style. You start shooting here and maybe we join in, eh?"</p><p>"Take a step back, sir."</p><p>"Enough!" The lead agent let go of her shoulder, pulled away. There would be hell to pay if a quick termination turned into a shootout. "We got what we came for."</p><p>As the three Arasaka agents left, V's breathing began to steady. Her eyes, finished rebooting, gave her a clear view of Jackie's face looking down at her. There was concern in those eyes, but also something more. Triumph? He'd been warning her for years that she'd end up like this, tossed aside like trash. Now, it had finally happened. He'd been right all along.</p><p>Of course he was feeling cocky. There was even a small smile on his face when he reached out to her.</p><p>"V, I think you just got your life back." He said, fingers pressed against her wrist to check her pulse. Her heartrate had mostly returned to normal, but her stomach churned. If she'd eaten anything after the burrito, she had no doubt it would be on the floor already. Might have even improved the décor.</p><p>"I've lost everything, Jackie. Contacts, references, my car, apartment. They've <em>seized </em>my bank account. Not frozen, <em>seized!</em> Every eddy I saved, swallowing burritos out of vending machines and washing my clothes by hand. Gone, just like that."</p><p>"Can they do that?"</p><p>She sighed, suddenly feeling drowsy. Her eyes fluttered.</p><p>"They could have done worse, I guess. Could have killed me too, if they wanted. Should've killed me."</p><p>"You're not looking too hot, <em>chica</em>." Jackie's arm went around her neck, his hand resting on her injured shoulder. She winced, unable to muster up the energy to tell him.</p><p>"It's just…stress…and…hormones. I'm in…withdrawal." She managed, leaning into his touch. Her skin tingled where it met his strong, calloused fingers.</p><p>"Don't worry about it, V." Jackie whispered. "I'll take care of you."</p><p>"..I….please…." She didn't have the strength to keep her eyelids open anymore. They fell shut, and sleep came right after.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Temperance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jackie Welles wasn't the stealthiest guy on the block.</p><p>It wasn't from a lack of trying, especially right now as he made his way up the stairs. He was gripping the railing tightly, trying to shift some of his weight off his tiptoeing feet. But he was a big man, and with every step he took the steps groaned and moaned beneath him. <em>Burro. Burro. El burro. </em>They seemed to whisper as he ascended them with all the grace of a Panzer tank.</p><p>"Jackie, get down here!" Mama Welles' voice came out of the kitchen. "Let her sleep!"</p><p>"<em>Quiet</em>, Mama!" Jackie replied in a furious whisper. "You'll wake her up!"</p><p>"That's the fourth time you've gone to check on her, Jaquito. Come help me with the tomatoes."</p><p>Ignoring Mama Welles was dangerous, but he was already halfway up the stairs. His excuse this time were his bike keys, which he'd left on the nightstand by his bed. And while he was at it, why not check up on the bed's current occupant? Just to make sure she was comfortable, wasn't struggling with any of her new implants.</p><p>He figured by the time he reached the door that his cover was already blown. Still, he crept up to the door, eased it open gently. The light snoring from within assured him V was still fast asleep. He could make out her silhouette on his bed, chest rising and falling with each breath. After last night, it was a relief to see her sleeping well. He took a cautious step into the room.</p><p>"Jackie?"</p><p><em>Oh shit. Que un burro. </em>Jackie did a quick scan of his room, decided it was too late to flatten his considerable bulk against a wall, pretend he was a poster. So instead he stepped forward wearing a sheepish grin.</p><p>"How you feeling, <em>chica?</em> Been out for almost a day now."</p><p>"R-Really?" Her words came out slurred. If it had been anyone but V, he would have thought they'd been out drinking. "What're y-you doing here?"</p><p>He nodded at the nightstand by the bed.</p><p>"Need to grab my keys."</p><p>"You left them in my house?" The words were coming faster, more clearly now. He could see her eyes flicking across the room. "Why is it so dark?"</p><p>"Gimme just a second…" he flipped on the lights. "Better?"</p><p>V's hand's flew to her face, shielding her eyes. "Ah! Fuck!" She cried, throwing her pillow at him from across the room. Jackie quickly turned the lights back off.</p><p>"What the hell was that?" She cried, voice full of panic. "Jackie, I think I might have caught a virus or something."</p><p>"Wait, V, lemme explain…" His voice died out when he saw the expression on her face.</p><p>"What happened to me?" She looked up at him, voice barely above a whisper. "My arms…they feel weird."</p><p>He swallowed hard. This wasn't the way he wanted to break the news to her.</p><p>"V, I—"</p><p>"Just tell me what the fuck you did!"</p><p>Jackie recoiled. V <em>never </em>raised her voice. But then again, she'd never looked as angry as she did now.</p><p>"After they…terminated you last night, the guy said you had an hour before your implants stopped working. So I brought you to a ripperdoc and—"</p><p>"A ripperdoc?"</p><p>"Yeah, Vik Vector. He swapped out your chrome, carted it back to Arasaka. Sure, the stuff he replaced it with isn't as good, but he said your body would adjust with time."</p><p>"Adjust? <em>Adjust? </em>Who the fuck gave you the right to serve me up to a ripper?" She was shaking from head to toe. "For all you know, he's put my shit on the market already!"</p><p>"Vik's not that kind of guy, V. Cost him a good bit of scratch, the stuff he put in you. Didn't take an enny off me for any of it."</p><p>"Oh yeah, really need you to save up." She sneered. "When one of these eyes pop and take a chunk of my brain with 'em, gotta have the scratch to bury me somewhere half decent."</p><p>"You would've been dead anyways." Anger bubbled inside him, urging him to raise his voice to match hers. She was sleeping in <em>his </em>bed, in <em>his </em>room. "Or you'd be a vegetable, drooling in a hospital bed if it wasn't for Vik."</p><p>"I didn't need your help, Jackie." Her voice trembled with what he assumed was rage. "Didn't ask for it. Didn't want it."</p><p>Jackie took a deep breath. A part of him was raring to go, to match each of her shouts with one of his own. She wasn't the only one who knew how to raise her voice. No, he could yell too. He could yell loud enough to wake up the block if he wanted. But he wasn't going to lose his cool. Not here, not with her.</p><p>"Listen, <em>chica</em>. I'm going to your apartment to pick up your stuff. Mama's downstairs, making lunch." He moved to the door. "Vik said it'd be better if you stay put for a while. If you wanna move out after...that's your choice."</p><p>He lingered at the doorway, feeling her eyes on his back. He could tell she wanted to say something. Maybe yell at him some more or, if she'd run out of things to say, throw another pillow at him. Maybe he'd deserve it, for not helping her sooner, for letting her fight her battles alone until she was backed up against a wall. But whatever it is she wanted to say, she kept it to herself as the door swung shut.</p><p>Jackie took deep breaths as he went down the steps, trying to regain control of his emotions. When that didn't work, he stood still and tried to focus on cleansing his chakra like Misty taught him to. <em>Think happy thoughts</em>. She'd say, fingers entwined in his. <em>Positive energy</em>.</p><p>He tried, tried hard to picture something nice. Walking through the park with his mama, spending the night with Misty, drinking with the Valentino boys. It didn't work, it never worked. Without Misty's calming presence at his side, his anger ran wild through his head. What he needed now was some air, and some time alone with his thoughts.</p><p>"And where do you think you're going?" Mama Welles, armed with a spoon, stood at the base of the stairs. "Lunch is almost ready."</p><p>"I need to go pick up V's stuff. Saka's clearing the place out today."</p><p>The knot in Jackie's stomach loosened a little when his mother smiled.</p><p>"My sweet boy. Still so eager to help after all that yelling."</p><p>"She's just…stressed, Mama." He gave her a knowing look. "You know what she's been through."</p><p>"She was always such a polite child. Even when she was angry, she never raised her voice remember?"</p><p>Jackie smiled, thinking of a younger V. They'd had their arguments, but he couldn't think of a time when she'd yelled at him. Even as children, Jackie would bellow out his anger while Valerie stood with her hands on her hips, frowning or shaking her head. Once he'd tired himself out, she'd speak her mind in a rush, words tumbling out of her mouth as she tried to match his loudness with her speed.</p><p>"I remember when she saw me in the hospital, Mama. Big, angry eyes. Think I was more scared of her than I was of you."</p><p>"She walked up to you, quiet as a mouse, and put those flowers on your bed, didn't she?"</p><p>She'd also leaned in close to his ear, close enough that Mama Welles couldn't hear the tremble in her voice when she called him a dumb, <em>dumb</em> bastard. But he kept that memory to himself and gave his mama a smile.</p><p>"She's changed a lot." Jackie kissed her on the forehead as he inched past. "Think working at Arasaka does that to you."</p><p>Mama Welles nodded, tapping her chin.</p><p>"You know who she reminds me of now? Camila."</p><p>"Ay-ay-ay!" He threw his hands up in the air. "Not her again!"</p><p>"Camila was just like this, remember? Stubborn as a bull, flaming hot temper." She tilted her head, still tapping her chin. "Why did you never…"</p><p>"Never what?"</p><p>"She's beautiful, is she not?" A sly smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Would give me some nice grandchildren too, I can feel it."</p><p>Jackie felt his cheeks heat up, knew the tips of his ears were turning red. He loved his mama, loved her to death. Loved her enough to endure her complaints about his girlfriend without saying a word. But right now, he didn't trust himself to stay quiet.</p><p>Right now, he <em>really </em>needed air.</p><p>"Doesn't matter, Mama. I'm with Misty now." He answered shortly. He held up the keys, tilted his head towards the door. "I'll be back before dinner."</p><p>"<em>Cuidate, </em>Jaquito."</p>
<hr/><p>There was a tension in Jackie's chest. An odd, tugging sensation that made itself known whenever he took a deep breath. And he'd been taking a lot of deep breaths, all the way from his home to the garage, trying to clear his mind. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. V, back after five years of working for Arasaka. It didn't feel real. Part of the reason he'd gone upstairs to check on her so many times was to make sure she was still there, sleeping in his room. To reassure himself it wasn't all a dream, that she really was back in his life.</p><p>She was probably sitting upright on his bed right now, casting a disapproving eye on his pinup posters. Wondering if she'd be better off trying her luck at a motel, or at a homeless camp under the freeway. He winced, knowing she'd probably open the wardrobe to find two-day-old shirts and blush-worthy pictures. For all he knew, he'd come back to find her gone without a note.</p><p>Try as he might to focus on anything else, V continued to dominate his thoughts. For the first time in five years, she was finally free of the Corpo maelstrom. Free to forge her own path without some Arasaka suit running fingers up her skirt.</p><p>But sooner or later, he knew she’d be sucked back into the life she’d swallowed her pride for. If it wasn’t Arasaka, it would be Militech or Biotechnica or some other fucking Corp. His best friend would disappear again, this time for good. Off to eke out a miserable living until some hired gun sent her to an early grave for a promotion.</p><p>Which meant he, Jackie Welles, had a few days at the most to rescue her. And what a start he’d had, squabbling with V like they were still children on the playground. <em>God </em>she could be so stubborn sometimes. That part of her hadn't changed one bit; when she dug her heels into the ground, clenched her teeth and lifted her chin, the conversation was over. Those flashing eyes of hers had chased away friends and bullies alike, but they'd never bothered <em>him</em>. They were a defense mechanism, the feral snarl of a cornered cat. And when the day was up, when the angry cat sheathed its claws, it always ended up crawling back into his arms for a hug.</p><p>Jackie paused, surprised at how fast his heart was beating. A new doubt entered the fray, one that left his cheeks warm and his legs shaking with restless energy. Maybe it was simpler than he thought. Maybe this latest outburst was a defense mechanism, something he could cut through with a little affection. He felt a sudden, frantic urge to rush back into the house and give V a hug. To communicate through action what he'd never be able to say to her face. That he was here for her, that she wasn't alone. Maybe that would be enough to keep her there. </p><p>She'd slap him, probably. Pack her bags and walk out the door before he managed to stammer out an apology. V was a Corpo now, and had been for five years straight. It would take more than hugs to change her mind. He needed a plan, maybe even a miracle.</p><p>His doubts kept up the chase all the way to the garage, nipping at his heels like a swarm of roaches, following him up until the moment he finally swung his leg over his ARCH motorbike.</p><p>He took it all in. The deep purr of the engine, the faint scent of exhaust, the golden Valentino inlays running down the chassis. He loved Mama Welles, loved Misty too. But the relationship he had with his bike was something deeper, a bond between man and machine that Maelstrom gonks could only dream of. And once he was under the sun with the wind in his hair, Samurai music pounding his eardrums, all his fears crawled back into the recesses of his mind.</p><p>
  <em>It's the animal within my blood</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Would have stopped it, if I could</em>
</p><p>Nobody played the guitar like Silverhand, and his tunes kept Jackie's blood pumping on the way to Charter Hill. He remembered trying to get V to listen too, back when she still called herself Valerie. It was the last time they'd met before she'd taken the job at Arasaka, the day he'd officially quit the Valentinos.</p>
<hr/><p>He'd spent most of the evening and a good chunk of the night marinating his liver at the <em>El Coyote Cojo</em>. If his mama had known, she would've stormed the bar, grabbed him by the ear and not let go until either his ear came off or he was back in bed. Only a week ago, he'd been in the hospital with two near-fatal bullet wounds. He should have been at home, resting. Instead, he raised his hand for another shot.</p><p>This time, Pepe came over, wearing a frown.</p><p>"I'm taking your keys, choom."</p><p>The clink of bike keys in Pepe's hand was the only thing that managed to pull Jackie's eyes off the bottom of his glass.</p><p>"No you're not." He slurred, reaching for them. His hand swung through empty air, landing on the bar with a thud.</p><p>"Jackie, you've had too much to drink." Pepe slipped the keys into his pocket. "Come pick these up tomorrow, ok? Don't make me call your mother."</p><p>Pepe's threat was enough to sober him up, just a little. Enough to get him out of the bar and into the cool night air. He stumbled aimlessly down the sidewalk, arms out in front of him. Squinting through the blur, he didn't see the person in front of him until they'd collided.</p><p>"I-I'm sorry." He muttered, patting them on the back. Took him a while to figure he was talking to a lamppost.</p><p>It occurred to him he might need some help getting home.</p><p>With Pepe's threat fresh on his mind, he didn't dare head back into the bar. Calling his mama was out of the question; there were easier ways to commit suicide. He scrolled through his contacts, heart growing heavier.</p><p>
  <em>Valentino. Dead. Dead. Valentino. Valentino. Valerie.</em>
</p><p>He paused, then gave the number a call. She picked up on the third ring, sounding drowsy and irritated.</p><p>"What is it, Jackie?"</p><p>"Heya Val." He managed, holding onto the lamppost for support. "You busy?"</p><p>"It's three in the morning."</p><p>"That's a no, right?"</p><p>"What happened?" She sounded more alert, was probably sitting upright in her bed. "You all right?"</p><p>"I'm good, babe." He grinned, kissed the post. "How're you?"</p><p>"Where are you?" There was obvious concern in her voice now. "Jackie?"</p><p>"<em>El Coyote Cojo</em>." He answered, then hung up. He felt like an idiot, calling her in the dead of night. Valerie lived in Watson. She didn't have a car, didn't even know how to drive. But he'd also reached the end of his list of contacts. He slumped over on the sidewalk, leaning against the lamppost.</p><p>Valerie arrived in an hour, or maybe it was fifteen minutes. He'd lost track of time, sitting on the curb with his eyes half-closed. He spotted her getting out of a taxicab, wearing a pair of purple cloth pajamas and a striped, pink shirt that hugged her body. Her long, brown hair was gathered up in a tight ponytail.</p><p>"Hey! V!" He raised his hand, then let it fall when she started moving towards him. She stopped a few inches away, hands on her hips.</p><p>"You came. Preem." Jackie muttered, staring at the ground. He didn't want to see her look of disappointment or worse, pity.</p><p>"You called me <em>babe</em>." She answered, shivering slightly. "I had to come."</p><p>Her pajamas were tight, likely borrowed. There was no bulge near her thigh, where she might have secured a gun. Probably didn't even have one.</p><p>"Thought I'd called up my input." He giggled, looked up to see her eyebrow raised. "Whoops."</p><p>She knelt beside him, scanned him from head to toe. Once she was satisfied he wasn't hurt, she socked him in the arm. Hard.</p><p>"Ow!" He cried, the pain jolting him into sobriety for a second. "What was that for?"</p><p>"I'm not your <em>babe</em>, Jackie." Her words were threatening but her tone was playful, "Where's your bike?"</p><p>"In Pepe's rotten, thieving fingers." He growled, pointing to the bar.</p><p>"Wait here. I'll go get them."</p><p>"Doesn't matter, Val. I can't and you <em>definitely </em>can't drive my bike."</p><p>She sighed, rose to her feet.</p><p>"Then we walk." She said, hand outstretched.</p><p>He looked at her, framed in the streetlights. Wondered what he'd been sad about, why he'd decided to test his liver tonight. It wasn't every man in Night City who knew a woman like this, who'd drop everything in the middle of the night for a drunken fool.</p><p>Jackie could have sworn he felt his skin tingle when he took her hand.</p>
<hr/><p>Half an hour later and the two of them were walking through Reconciliation park in the dead of night. V's arm was wrapped tight around his waist, struggling to keep him upright. He was listening to Samurai, nodding his head to the guitar solo.</p><p>"Hey, wanna…listen?" He gagged, swallowed. Gave her a goofy grin. "It's the best."</p><p>"We're lost, aren't we?"</p><p>"Nah, trust me <em>chica. </em>We get around that bend, take a left…"</p><p>"That's the fourth time you've said that, Jackie." Even his dull, tequila-soaked brain could register the fear in her voice. "Please tell me you know where we're going."</p><p>He knew she didn't have the money for the implants he did. To her, the park was a maze filled with blind corners and dancing shadows. Each turn they took could leave them face-to-face with a Sixth Street gangoon looking to add to his Valentino kill count. Every shadow could reveal a cyberpsycho, ready to pounce.</p><p>His implants were built for combat. They expanded his peripheral vision, lit up dark spots in his line-of-sight and gave him thermal readings. They featured some of the latest tech on the market, a gift from his Valentino chooms. Unfortunately, they didn't help much with navigation.</p><p>"Left. I—" He looked around, more lost than ever<em>. </em>"I think."</p><p>"Oh Jackie." She sighed, shifted more of his weight onto her shoulder. "Let's find somewhere to sit, give that skull sponge of yours some time to air out."</p><p>They managed to make it to a bench. V grunted with effort, guiding his considerable bulk into the seat. Jackie grunted too, trying to hold his lunch. She collapsed beside him, breathing hard.</p><p>"You shouldn't have come, Valerie." He drawled, head resting on her shoulder. "I'm not worth it."</p><p>"I shouldn't have come." She agreed. "It's so late too."</p><p>"But you did anyways." He grinned again. It must have been his goofiest yet, because she laughed despite the circumstances. "Why?"</p><p>"Would've been bored if you stopped showing up in Watson. Wouldn't know what to do."</p><p>"C'mon, Val. You're telling me you've got no plans? No ambition?"</p><p>She sighed, looked up at the night sky. Jackie knew she was looking for stars; every Night City kid tried to at some point in their life. Most would have given up by now.</p><p>"I really don't know, Jackie. All the legends you talk about, Adam Smasher, Johnny Silverhand, they all died a long time ago. Everybody in Watson's either fighting over gigs, joining up with gangs or going corpo. Think we might have missed our chance to be legends, big guy."</p><p>Jackie sat up straight, a mistake that left his head spinning and his stomach turning. He looked her in the eyes.</p><p>"We're not asking, not begging Night City for a chance to reach the top, Valerie. Nah, you and me, we're gonna make our own way. You'll see. They'll be talking about us one day. Jack and Val, legends of Night City."</p><p>She nodded, but he knew she didn't believe him. Why would she? He was slumped over on a park bench, reeking of alcohol, hopelessly lost in his own neighborhood. If he'd seen someone in the same position, he'd probably toss them a couple of eddies.</p><p>But he knew it was more than that. She'd never believed in his dream, not even when they were children and Night City glittered with hope and promise. <em>Lucida</em>, his mama used to call her. <em>Always keeps her eyes on the ground, watching her next step. You, Jaquito, your head never leaves the clouds.</em></p><p>"I think I'm sober now, <em>chica</em>." He took his arm off her shoulders. "You should go home."</p><p>"And leave you here? I thought we were both becoming legends."</p><p><em>Dios mio, I love you. </em>He thought, not sure if it was the tequila talking. Rising to his feet, he offered her his hand.</p><p>"Well then, we should get going don't you think? Can't leave Night City waiting."</p><p>"Jackie and Val." She tilted her head. "Has a nice ring to it."</p>
<hr/><p>Jackie smiled as he pulled up to the curb outside V's apartment. That night, they'd somehow made it home in one piece. V hadn't left his side for a moment, not even when he doubled over and puked all over the curb. He'd never told her why he'd been drinking himself into a coma that night, and she'd never asked. She was just <em>there</em>, a pillar of strength for him to lean on when it seemed like he had no one else. And now it was his turn to be there for her.</p><p>There were three messages on his phone when he finally turned off the music. All of them were from V.</p><p>
  <em>Hey Jackie</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you at my place?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There's a box under my bed. Bring it please.</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The Devil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter spoils something that's revealed much later in the game; V's real name. Read at your own discretion.<br/>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>V sat on the edge of Jackie's bed with her eyes pressed shut. One hand was on her face, double-covering her eyes. The other held a fistful of bedsheet, scrunched tight in trembling fingers.</p><p>"Lights. On."</p><p>Slowly, she pulled away the hand and cracked open her eyes. Then she let them open fully, blinking in confusion. The room was still dark.</p><p>"Lights. Activate." She said, covering her eyes again. Nothing.</p><p>She rose to her feet and waved a hand at the ceiling light, hoping it might be motion-activated. No luck. With a frustrated sigh she flopped back onto the bed.</p><p>It’d been more than a decade since she’d last been inside Jackie’s room. From the evening light seeping through a crack in the window shutters, she could tell not much had changed. The walls were still a dull, uninspired shade of light blue. The heat was still broken. And though there were signs Mama Welles had tried to tidy up, the floor still looked like a Mexican warzone.</p><p><em>If I owned Pacifica and this dump, Jackie, I think I’d rent out the room and sleep in Pacifica. </em> </p><p>She smiled at her own joke as she rolled off the bed, tottering onto unsteady feet. After five-years of carrying around balance-enhancing, poise-managing implants in her head, the ten-foot journey to the bathroom had her stumbling and bumbling like a toddler. It didn’t help that the floor was a minefield, littered with trash and darting roaches. V carefully edged around a pizza slice she could have sworn hadn’t moved since 2065. Her fingers twitched at her side, desperate to slip on some gloves and get started on biohazard containment.</p><p>
  <em>Wait till you see my apartment, Jackie. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh shit V, underwear goes in the laundry basket? And you organize by color?</em>
</p><p>Heat rose to her cheeks as she pictured Jackie rifling through drawers of panties, trying to find something worth saving. She should have called him, told him that all her worldly possessions could fit in a single box. But after the way she’d acted this morning, calling him would mean apologizing to him.</p><p>And she wasn’t quite ready to do that yet.</p><p> Slightly red-faced, but on increasingly stable feet she entered the bathroom. A dim yellow light flickered on the moment she walked in, illuminating her mercifully clean and tidy surroundings. She gave the mirror a wide berth−didn’t need to see two disasters in one morning−and began the lengthy process of unbuttoning and unzipping her office uniform.</p><p> Sometime between pulling out her belt and carefully unbuttoning her red undershirt, it occurred to V that today was Tuesday. The day of her performance review. By now she would have been sitting in her cubicle, smoothing out any wrinkles on her formal white-and-red blazer. Wringing her hands together after giving up on the neuromotor exercises, flicking her eyes over to the boardroom every other second. She had a speech too, one she’d spent hours preparing on what she knew was yesterday morning but what seemed like a lifetime away. Jenkins would be sitting right next to Abernathy, betraying no signs of enmity as V walked in, datapad in hand.</p><p> A shiver rippled through her body. She glanced at her discarded clothes, lying on the bathroom counter. Out of habit she’d stacked her slacks and shirts in a neat pile, to be carried pizza-style to her nightstand for tomorrow.</p><p>Only, there wouldn’t <em>be</em> a tomorrow. No slipping into high heels and perfecting eye shadow, no checking her reflection in every puddle and mirror to make sure her hair was straight. </p><p>She should have felt relieved. After five years of Corpo routine, she was finally free to do what she wanted. The city was hers, and Jackie was by her side.</p><p><em>Night City’s like a woman, V</em>. He’d said once, after his sixth or seventh shot. <em>Just reach out, grab those legs and spread ‘em. </em></p><p>Women smarter than her were strutting down Jig-Jig street in heels. Tougher girls were found in dumpsters, legs hanging over the edge. It was easy for Jackie to rip on her strict Arasaka routine, to mock her heels and blue hair. Freedom to him meant running and gunning, downing whiskey and spreading legs. Maybe if <em>he’d </em>spent his free days scampering through dingy bars, scrounging for enough eddies to pay for the closet he lived in, he’d understand why the thought of being free <em>terrified</em> her.</p><p> V dipped under the sputtering shower, letting lukewarm water run through her hair. No soap, but there was a bottle of half-empty shampoo in the shower rack. Before she’d even flipped open the top, she knew. It was Jackie’s shampoo.</p><p>The scent was intoxicating. She’d caught whiffs of it before, during rare bouts of roughhousing as a child and on those even rarer occasions when Jackie suited up for a formal event. Most of the time it was diluted by smoke, ash, or the stench of garbage endemic to Night City’s streets. But now, as she rubbed generous helpings of the liquid into her hair, she got the raw, unfiltered smell of the only brand of shampoo Jackie ever used. It suited him, somehow. Her time spent in Arasaka spas told her there was a hint of jasmine in there somewhere, along with a hefty dose of lavender. Some cinnamon too, adding a bit of spice to the flavor. The shower seemed to grow a little warmer when V thought about Jackie.</p><p> She stepped out a few minutes later, water dripping everywhere. A mild panic over what Mama Welles’ reaction would be was replaced with an even greater panic when she saw the empty towel rack. She didn't dare walk downstairs, naked and dripping water all over the house. And after stepping out of the shower feeling clean for the first time in days, she <em>really</em> didn't want to get back into her work clothes.</p><p>Fight or flight, and she sure as hell wasn’t fighting Mama Welles. She knew from experience that Mama Welles' stares could be damn near lethal when she got angry.</p><p> Her heart pounded with every step as she scampered back to Jackie's room, locking the door behind her. Now even <em>more </em>vulnerable, she managed to tiptoe back to his bed, where she promptly wrapped herself in his bedsheets. Now to find a scrap of clothing that wasn’t infested.</p><p> She was being unfair to him. Sure, the room was a mess, but it wasn’t <em>that </em>much of a mess. And he hadn’t lived here in years, not since he’d moved in with his bike. Mama Welles might not have touched the place much since he’d left, but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t fixable. With a hazmat suit and a couple cans of bug spray, V could have this place clean and livable within a week.</p><p> Lying down on sheets that smelled like Jackie, V was barely aware of the smile spreading across her face. Maybe she’d lock him out of the room till she was done, just to see his surprise when he stepped in. There was even a terminal here, a Fuyutsuki one covered in a thick layer of dust. Might as well have been a rock compared to the terminal at her apartment, but it would do for the moment. She could scan the Net for jobs, maybe even find a corporation willing to take her in. And Jackie would visit every day, complaining about the pinup posters she’d gotten rid of or the Bonsai tree sitting on top of his dresser. They’d argue, make up, argue some more, but they’d be together. Jackie and V, the way it was meant to be.</p><p>"Valerie! It's lunchtime!" Mama Welles' voice made her jump. "I've put some clothes on the stairs."</p><p>"Coming!" She called, hoping her voice carried downstairs. It felt strange, being addressed by her first name. It was almost like she'd been sent five years into the past, given another chance at life. She caught a whiff of <em>tamales</em> while grabbing the clothes Mama Welles had left her, the spices alerting her to the rumbling in her belly.</p><p> Right now, the only thing she wanted in the world was one of Mama Welles' golden-brown enchiladas. Preferably with a helping of her tangy tomato salsa and a generous scoop of sour cream. She ran a hand through her hair and pulled on the shirt and jeans she'd been given. The shirt was a little tight around the chest and the jeans were full of holes, but she was grateful to be wearing something clean.</p>
<hr/><p>Mama Welles was already seated when V reached the bottom of the stairs. Her eyes were closed and her hands clasped firmly together. Her lips moved in silent prayer. The heavenly scent of warm, homemade food made V's mouth water, and she slid into an empty seat on the opposite side of the table. All of her favorites were there, along with a few of Jackie's too. <em>Enchiladas, tamales </em>and even the <em>chilaquiles </em>Jackie used to fight her for.</p><p>"Valerie?" Mama Welles' stern voice caught V with her hands filled with enchilada. She'd never been very stealthy. "Have you given thanks for your food?"</p><p>V bowed her head low, still clinging to the enchiladas. "Thank you Mama Welles."</p><p>"Not to me." She replied, her eyes still closed. "To God."</p><p>"I don't believe in—"</p><p>"<em>Silence</em>." Mama Welles' interjection was so abrupt, so intense that V dropped the enchiladas on her plate. She waited, not daring to move a muscle.</p><p>Mama Welles exhaled slowly, then opened her eyes. "I see you still haven't changed on this. Eat."</p><p>V didn't need to be reminded. She stuffed a whole <em>enchilada</em> in her mouth, devouring it in two bites. The cheese was still hot enough to burn her tongue. She savored the pain along with the spices, chewing thoroughly before she swallowed. After weeks of eating cheap, processed burritos made with cardboard tortillas, the flavors of Mama Welles' cooking felt divine to her tastebuds. Each <em>enchilada</em> disappeared in a matter of seconds, and she was quick to scoop out a generous helping of <em>chilaquiles </em>onto her plate.</p><p>"Jackie told me what happened at work. I'm so sorry."</p><p>She nodded, too hungry to ask if she was talking about the termination or the incident in the bathroom. Hopefully, Jackie had kept his word and forgotten about the latter.</p><p>"Don't worry about me, Ms. Welles. I'll start looking for a new place immediately."</p><p>"Nonsense." Mama Welles served herself an <em>enchilada</em>. "You will stay with us for as long as you like."</p><p>"Are there jobs in Heywood? Well-paying ones?" V asked in-between bites.</p><p>"You can earn a decent living here, if you work hard." Mama Welles smiled as she cut her <em>enchilada </em>into bite-sized pieces. "You could work at my bar if you'd like."</p><p>"Your bar?"</p><p>"<em>El Coyote Cojo</em>. You'll be starting as a barmaid, so I cannot promise you a great salary. What I <em>can </em>promise you is your safety." V found it hard to meet Mama Welles' intense gaze. "<em>Nobody </em>touches my girls."</p><p>"It's just…I'm not sure I'm suited for that kind of work, Ms. Welles. At Arasaka, I was more of a technical expert..."</p><p>"Ah, you mean computers? Then you could work the register!” She pointed at V with her fork. “Normally, I don't trust anyone but Pepe with the money. You, Valerie, I trust very much."</p><p>"Thank you, Ms. Welles. I'm really grateful it's just…" V's eyes flicked from her plate to the window, then to the stairs. "I'm not−I don't think I'm right for the job. I don't even drink…"</p><p>"I'm not asking you to drink, Valerie. I'm asking you to work."</p><p>"Maybe after I−"</p><p>"Valerie." Mama Welles' spoon clinked as it dropped into her plate. "You don't want the job, do you?"</p><p>She tried but couldn't meet Mama Welles' eyes. So she nodded slowly.</p><p>"Then why so timid!" Mama Welles cried, reaching over to slap her on the wrist. "If you don't want to do something, just say no!"</p><p>"I-I'm sorry, Ms. Welles."</p><p>"Forget the bar, then. I know the owner of an electronics store. Sells equipment to netrunners…"</p><p>Mama Welles went on for some time, listing jobs whose pay ranged from barely adequate to homeless veteran. V nodded through each one, not denying outright but not accepting either. Once her stomach was full, she excused herself to go to the sink, where she washed her hands and her plate. Mama Welles was beaming when V sat back down.</p><p>"I think some of your good manners might have rubbed off on Jaquito, Valerie. He's so helpful in the kitchen nowadays."</p><p>"Maybe he just wanted the recipe for those wonderful <em>enchiladas </em>of yours?" V asked, returning the smile.</p><p>"Oh he wishes!" Mama Welles chuckled. "I have him cutting tomatoes and chopping onions every time. Some things a mother must keep secret from her son." V snorted, and Mama Welles laughed with her for a while, before the two of them settled into a comfortable silence.</p><p>V couldn't remember a warmer place than Mama Welles' dining room. Memories flooded back to her, of time spent curled up on Mama Welles’ lap or sitting at the foot of her armchair, listening to stories about talking dogs and cunning <em>coyotes</em>. She’d shared her most intimate secrets, had her most embarrassing experiences under this roof.</p><p>It was Mama Welles’ arms she'd run into, sobbing, after her first period. It was Mama Welles who’d helped her clean up, who’d kissed her repeatedly on the forehead while searching for a fresh pair of clothes.</p><p>"It's nothing to be ashamed of, <em>querida</em>. Mama Welles will take care of you. Be brave."</p><p>"J-Jackie made fun of me, Mama." She'd cried, hugging her chest. "He called me <em>roja."</em></p><p>"Oh, <em>niňo estupido. </em>You tell that Jackie Welles that his Mama will turn his rear <em>rojo </em>when she sees him."</p><p>She'd giggled, clinging to Mama Welles' arm like a toddler. Jackie had apologized later that night, nursing a sore behind. She remembered the look of panic on his face when she suggested he sit down and smiled.</p><p>It had been a long time since someone had given her that kind of unconditional love.</p><p>But there were other memories too, bitter ones that came just as easily as the sweet ones. She remembered when Mama Welles had tried to call two pieces of jerky boiled in water a soup, presenting the dish with trembling hands and voice. She recalled the night she’d spent, locked in Jackie’s closet with her hand clamped over her mouth. Outside, Jackie’s father swung heavy, drunken fists until her best friend lay unconscious on the floor. An icy chill began to materialize near her heart, robbing Mama Welles' food of all taste and heat.</p><p>“V? Are you ok?”</p><p>V looked down to see her fingers clenched around her spoon, trembling.</p><p>“I’m fine, Ms. Welles. Please, go on.”</p><p>“Why so formal, <em>querida</em>?” She sighed, picking at her food like Jackie often did when he was feeling uncomfortable. “You’re my daughter. If something is bothering you, I want you to tell me.”</p><p>“It’s nothing, Ms. Welles.”</p><p>“If the work in Heywood doesn’t suit your interests, I’m sure you can find more technical work in Santo Domingo. I heard…”</p><p>Jackie had once promised her that they'd both end up as legends of Night City. He'd always been the dreamer, but she'd been working towards the top her whole life. She couldn’t give up now. </p><p>She smiled at Mama Welles, nodded in agreement with whatever she was saying. Under the table, she scrolled through her contacts until she found Frank Nostra’s number. The only person who hadn’t blocked her yet. A good sign.</p><p>
  <em>Hey.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wanna meet? </em>
</p><p>She didn’t have to wait long for a reply.</p><p>
  <em>Sure. Konpeki Plaza? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Remember the restaurant? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their bartender mixes a mean martini.</em>
</p><p>Another meeting at a bar. Hopefully this one went better than the last.</p><p>
  <em>Sure. See you there. </em>
</p><p>“…Jackie’s working on something, something big he says. But Valerie, I don’t want you to go anywhere near any fixers. Padre Ibarra is…”</p><p>Her mind was already racing with possibilities, mapping out a plan. Frank worked under Abernathy, holding the same position she’d held under Jenkins. From what she’d heard the Director was an unapologetically efficient woman, the kind of person who wouldn’t let personal grudges stand in the way of performance metrics. If V could just convince her of how important she was to Arasaka, there was a chance she’d get her job back.</p><p>All she needed was for Frank to set up the meeting.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Fool</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jackie's room wasn't big enough for sword fighting.</p><p>She told him that the moment he pulled out the box, the long, rectangular one she'd hidden under her bed. The gleam in his eyes told her it was pointless; he'd already peeked inside on the way over and the excitement had him practically hopping from foot to foot.</p><p>“This place is dangerous enough.” She’d warned with a nod aimed at the floor. The last two hours of her life had gone towards carving out a livable habitat for herself. Letting Jackie in was pushing it, and she was <em>absolutely </em>certain she didn’t need a sword in the mix.</p><p>“C’mon V.” He begged, flashing mournful, puppy-dog eyes. “I’ll be careful, I promise.”</p><p>That was a lie. She could see it in his twitching fingers, in the grin he was desperately trying to hide behind the collar of his jacket. If she gave this man the go ahead, he was going to endanger her, himself, and any stray furniture that got in his way.</p><p>But those something about those emerald-green eyes, glimmering with childish glee, that she just <em>couldn’t </em>say no to. All her arguments, her page-long list of reasons on why this was a bad idea, began to melt under his pleading gaze.</p><p>"Alright. Five minutes." She muttered finally, knowing she'd end up regretting it. Before he opened the box, she scrunched her body up in the far corner of Jackie's bed with her back pressed firmly against the wall and her vital organs well out of reach.</p><p>"I didn't know Arasaka took that ninja shit so seriously!" Jackie whooped, as he swung the carbon-steel blade in a low arc. V pulled the blankets a little closer to her chest, making sure none of her limbs strayed too close to the blender in the center of the room. "Does everyone get one of these?"</p><p>"It was a gift. Jenkins gave it to me when I got promoted.” She explained, watching with wary eyes as he examined its razor-sharp edge.  “It's a ceremonial weapon."</p><p>"Ceremonial?" He held up his finger to show her a trickle of bright-red blood. Thirty seconds in and he'd already managed to hurt himself. "It's sharp."</p><p>"Of course it's sharp." V said, shaking her head. "It's a real sword. You’re just not supposed to use it."</p><p>"You learn any Samurai moves? I'm talking Bushido 2, kill-em-all-before-they-blink techniques." Jackie slashed the air, then executed a wild spinning move that nearly sliced a chair in half. "Wanna try something new for my next gig."</p><p>"There were some basic self-defense classes. How to hold the sword, how to swing it. Some stuff about cleaning and maintenance." She shrugged, eyes tracking the blade's erratic movements. "Not that any of us needed it at counter-intel. Our implants were more than enough to deal with your average street thug."</p><p>"In Bushido 4, Isobe Makoto learns how to deflect bullets with his katana." Jackie explained, settling into a Samurai stance. The katana rose high above his head, and her heart leapt to meet it. "Think your Saka ninjas can do that?"</p><p>"That’s not possible Jackie. Besides, what happens after he deflects the first bullet? Does he eat the other thirty?"</p><p>He froze mid-slice to give her a look of utter astonishment.</p><p>"You <em>still</em> haven't seen Bushido 4?"</p><p>"Haven't seen any of them. Don't want to either." She'd never understood why the low-budget action series with its cheesy fight scenes and corny dialogue appealed to him. "Besides, my Saka ninjas are <em>real</em>, Jackie. And if you don't stop flailing about like a hobo on glitter, I'll sic them on you."</p><p>He paused to catch his breath. "A toy like this shouldn't be hidden away in a box, V."</p><p>"It's not a toy," V replied, scrambling across the bed to snatch the katana out of his hands "so don't treat it like one."</p><p>"You're right. I've seen Tyger Claws do mean things with swords like this one."</p><p>V snorted, rolled her eyes. "What sort of gonk brings a knife to a gunfight?"</p><p>"You'd be surprised, V. All you gotta do is get the element of surprise." He crouched low, a move ill-suited for his bulky frame. His hip connected with a swivel chair, sent it rolling across the room to crash into the far wall. Unfazed, he disappeared behind a dresser.</p><p>"Get behind cover, wait for it…then strike!" He leapt forward, imaginary knife poised for the kill.</p><p>"You look ridiculous." V grunted, fighting to keep a straight face. "Besides, I'm probably going to sell it. Could use the money."</p><p>"Sell it!" The horror on Jackie's face couldn't be faked. "You're really going to sell that beauty?"</p><p>"It's worthless to me." She lied, running a finger down the hilt of the sword. By now her name would have been expunged from Arasaka's records. Reports she'd spent whole nights working on would be erased forever. The only proof she'd ever been employed at Arasaka was right here, in her hands. Without it, she was just one more person among the detritus wandering the streets. Her fingers dug into the hilt, squeezed until her knuckles were white.</p><p>
  <em>It wasn't over. Not yet.</em>
</p><p>She sheathed the weapon carefully, then put it back in its box.</p><p>“Maybe I won't sell it."</p><p>Jackie beamed at her. Then he dropped to one knee, head bowed, one hand across his chest.</p><p>"Bear this sword in my name, Makoto. May your every step be light. May your every night be bright."</p><p>"May your every night be bright? What does that even mean?" She gave him an incredulous look. "So he never sleeps?"</p><p>Jackie shrugged. "Hey at least it rhymes. And that's from Bushido 7 by the way. The best one, no matter what anyone else says."</p><p>"I'll keep that in mind." She grunted, glancing back at her phone. Arasaka had already confiscated her shares in the company. With just forty-thousand eddies in the bank, her options to buy were limited, and since Arasaka employees were prohibited from making investments in rival companies, she had nothing to sell either.</p><p>"So…" Jackie looked at her sideways. "You're really meeting this guy?"</p><p>"Yeah. Konpeki Plaza."</p><p>"And he didn't give you a time?"</p><p>"Nope."</p><p>"How well do you know him?"</p><p>V felt a hint of irritation at the suspicion in his voice. This was the guy who used to spend every weekend with a different girl on his arm.</p><p>"I know him well enough, Jackie. We worked together on the East Coast."</p><p>Jackie's eyes narrowed with fresh suspicion. "Is he the guy you were telling me about last month? The one who works for Abernathy?"</p><p>"I know how it sounds but—"</p><p>"You're a gonk."</p><p>"It's just dinner." V contested hotly. Jackie looked upset, angry even<em>. </em>The tension from their fight this morning was etched clearly in the lines on his face.</p><p>"You're going to Konpeki Plaza, right?"</p><p>"Yeah. So?"</p><p>"Arasaka runs security there. V, that corpo's going to sell you to Abernathy."</p><p>V nodded; the thought had crossed her mind too. "I still have to go."</p><p>Jackie stepped forward, pressed a hand against her forehead. Then he grabbed her wrist to check her pulse.</p><p>"Think you might have caught a virus, V." He sat down beside her, landing heavily on the mattress and inadvertently drawing her closer. "You're talking crazy."</p><p>She knew he wouldn't understand. He'd never even tried. Never accepted her decision to sign up with Arasaka. Never considered what a stable job meant for a Watson girl who didn't want to end up as a joytoy. Never managed to see things from her side, to see why she put up with everything the Corp had thrown her way. Her fists curled into balls when she remembered the smug smile he’d given her at Lizzie’s, the triumph in his eyes when he’d picked her off the ground. Like he’d somehow <em>won,</em> like her life falling to pieces was a <em>victory</em>.</p><p>The anger drained away as quickly as it had come. She didn’t want to fight him. Couldn’t. Not when she was already at war with the whole world. She wanted—no, <em>needed</em>—him to take her side, just this once. Even if he didn’t get it.</p><p>"This might be my only chance." She whispered, collecting Jackie's hands in her own, looking him straight in the eyes, hoping he'd see the desperation written in hers.</p><p>He only held her gaze for a second, but it was enough. She turned away, blinking furiously as he gently grasped her arm.</p><p>"It's not worth it, V. It never was."</p><p>"What about you Jack?" She jerked away from him, shaking. "How many eddies do you get for every person you put in the ground?"</p><p>"That's differ—"</p><p>"Maybe you enjoy it." She interrupted, her tone acidic. "Maybe it <em>is </em>worth it to you."</p><p>"V…"</p><p>"Yeah, think that might be it. You take home scratch for zeroing people, and that really gets your rocks off doesn't it?" Lines were being crossed but she didn't care. She wanted to hurt him.</p><p>"You have no idea what you're talking about."</p><p>"Don't I?" She barked out a laugh. "Remember Mexico? The cartels in SoCal? Tijuana? You killed people for Corpo cash."</p><p>"Because <em>you </em>asked." He muttered. "Because I thought I was helping you."</p><p>"Really? And when I asked you to zero Abernathy?"</p><p>"That was a trap, V. You'd have to be blind not to see that."</p><p>"Five years, Jackie. Five years and you're still living in the same shitty neighborhood, shooting and getting shot. What happened to hitting the big leagues?"</p><p>"Stop, V." He was hunched over, staring at the ground. There was an uncharacteristic wobble in his voice.</p><p>"Maybe you're right, Jackie. Maybe it really isn't worth it. I should be more like you or Mama Welles and get used to living like a roach. Then I mi—"</p><p>"<em>Cállate!"</em> Jackie exploded, launching himself off the bed. For a terrifying half-second it was Jackie’s father standing in front of her, fists clenched and trembling at his side. Heavy, jacket-clad shoulders rose and fell as he took deep, shuddering breaths.</p><p>When he finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth.</p><p>"Do whatever you want, V."</p><p>The moment the door closed behind him, V buried her face in Jackie's pillow and screamed.</p>
<hr/><p> She woke up an hour later, curled up in the fetal position with the pillow held tight against her chest. The room was empty. Some small part of her had expected Jackie to be there when she woke up, even if she wasn't ready to talk to him just yet. A mumbled attempt at an apology, a plate of Mama Welles' food or even a caring look would have gone a long way towards easing the tension in her chest. Instead, he'd left her a short message on her phone.</p><p>
  <em>Went to Vik's. Don't call.</em>
</p><p>She stared at the screen for a minute, reading and rereading the message. His words stung; they were meant to sting. <em>Don't call</em>, as if she was a crazy ex-output or scam artist. And if Vik's meant Vik Vector's Clinic, then Jackie was probably there for Misty. V tried, tried hard not to let that thought bother her. She tried to focus on wiping her makeup and tears off the pillow. And when that didn't work, she pushed herself to get out of bed and crawl to the bathroom, where she blew her nose and reapplied her makeup and didn't think at all about Jackie's arms wrapping around his input.</p><p>It wasn’t long before the anger found her again, filling the emptiness in her chest with fire. Two times in two days she'd needed Jackie's help and he'd refused. The first time, he'd treated her like she was an idiot. Now, he was treating her like a child.</p><p>The woman in the mirror wasn’t a child. Wasn’t an idiot. Her jaw was tight with resolve, betraying none of the doubt festering in her heart. Angled cheekbones rose from tight, pursed lips to meet a pair of narrowed eyes that’d decided a long time ago to never look back.</p><p>The woman in the mirror didn’t need Jackie. Didn’t need anyone.</p><p>There were four unread messages from Frank, telling her to be there by nine. A glance at the clock told her she was already three minutes late.</p><p>
  <em>Sorry, had some work. I can make 9:30.</em>
</p><p>The response was immediate.</p><p>
  <em>Great! 9:30 it is!</em>
</p><p>V let herself run on autopilot, straightening her hair and putting in her contacts. Blue, or more specifically turquoise, was his favorite color. While rummaging through her clothes, she read and reread her mental checklist on things he liked. <em>Corpo History, Pizza, the Crystal Palace casino.</em></p><p>She finally settled on a white polycarbonate blazer Jenkins had complimented once. Her lips were a deep, sensual red, and her now blue eyes burned with fiery determination.</p><p>
  <em>Tonight, V, you're going back to the top.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p> She’d offered the cab driver three times the normal fare, nearly four hundred eddies, if he could get her there on time. The man had nodded, revved up his engine, and dropped her off right outside the metro station in front of Konpeki Plaza, thirty minutes late.</p><p> Most of that time was spent sneaking through back alleys, crawling forward at a snail's pace to escape the nine o’clock curfew at the Waterfront. She'd barely transferred the money and stepped on solid ground before the cab was gone, jetting down the street before pulling a hard right to escape line of sight from the hotel.</p><p> Most of the Arasaka Waterfront district was made up of empty warehouses, which made it a popular destination for the utterly destitute. Those who had nothing to lose were often willing to risk the wrath of Arasaka to make camp in the abandoned lots. But the hotel itself stood tall and proud with its name emblazoned across its chest, unfazed by the poverty surrounding it.</p><p> She'd only been here a handful of times, serving as Jenkins' assistant while he met with foreign diplomats or high-value informants. Everything about the luxury hotel had been intimidating, from the staff and their golden RealSkin to the turret emplacements tucked away beneath sofas and coffee tables. The whole place could turn into a shooting gallery in a matter of seconds, but that wasn't what set V's nerves on edge whenever she stepped into the lobby. Far more terrifying was the hotel's clientele, people rich enough to buy her whole and strip her down for parts if she looked at them the wrong way.</p><p>For the seventh time in just as many minutes, V cursed herself for choosing to wear high heels. Arasaka's fourth-gen cyberware had come with a chip that enhanced her sense of balance. At the office, wearing high heels felt no different from walking barefoot. She'd even taken to wearing heels at home, since the two inches they added to her five-seven frame made it easy to reach the top shelves in the kitchen. Now, she the slightest gust of wind threatened to send her flailing to the ground. Her wobbly stagger up to the hotel entrance was a far cry from the determined strut she'd been aiming for.</p><p>
  <em>Chin up.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Back straight.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Short, even breaths.</em>
</p><p>The valet looked at her expectantly when she approached the hotel entrance. She breezed past him without a second glance, moving with urgency to ward off questions. The security gates were next, each manned by a grim-faced guard in a black suit with a red undershirt. Arasaka colors. They followed her approach with glowing red eyes.</p><p><em>No car. No briefcase. </em>Their scanners would reveal that she was unemployed and born in dirt-poor Watson. Everything about her would be raising flags.</p><p>One of the guards casually slipped his hand into his suit jacket. The other approached her.</p><p>"Welcome to Konpeki Plaza, ma'am. May I ask what business you might have here?" His tone was formal and polite, but there was no hint of servility in his posture.</p><p>"I have a meeting here."</p><p>"Company?"</p><p>"Arasaka."</p><p>An eyebrow rose. "You're an employee?"</p><p>"No." Lying here would only get her in trouble. "I was. I'm meeting a former colleague of mine. He's an employee."</p><p>"Your employee ID?"</p><p>"NC770416." He turned to the side and whispered something into his earpiece. V stood still, refusing the urge to look around or fidget or do anything else that might be seen as nervous behavior.</p><p><em>I have a meeting</em>. <em>I belong here.</em></p><p>As the guard turned slightly to the right, V caught a glimpse of the weapon tucked into his holster. Her scanner identified it as a <em>Yukimura</em> smart pistol, manufactured by the Arasaka corporation<em>. </em>If Abernathy really wanted her dead, these men would oblige her without a second thought.</p><p>The guard turned back towards her, frowning.</p><p>"I'm afraid we can't let you in, ma'am. We have no room reservations under your name, and the restaurant is open to employees and guests only."</p><p>"There's a man inside, his name's Frank Nostra." She said, fighting to keep her voice calm. "Tell him V is here to see him."</p><p>The guard shook his head. "I can't go disturbing the guests, ma'am. I hope you understand."</p><p>"I just need a moment<em>." </em>She pleaded. "He'll recognize me, I pro—"</p><p>"<em>Ma'am</em>." There was an edge to his voice that was setting off alarm bells in her head. The second guard was coming closer, one hand still hidden in his suit jacket. "Leave quickly or we <em>will</em> use force."</p><p>"Wait, I can call him—"</p><p>The moment her hand reached into her pocket, the guard pounced. A gloved hand grabbed her wrist, twisted it until it was pressed behind her. Her cry of pain was silenced by a jab that dropped her to her knees. A shove from behind left her flat on the ground with a knee digging into the small of her back.</p><p>"Perimeter to Command, apprehended a possible threat outside the main gate. Please advise."</p><p>V struggled weakly in the guard's grip, kicking her feet in the air. Her pristine white Arasaka blazer, the one she'd only worn twice before, was being dragged across the ground. She tried to scream, but the guard increased the pressure on her back until she was gasping for breath.</p><p>"Negative, subject is unarmed. Scanners sugg—" The guard inhaled sharply. "Right now?"</p><p>V twisted her neck until she could see both guards. Their eyes were aimed at the sky, searching for something in the darkness. She was trying to follow their gaze when the guard pushed her head back down, grinding her cheek against the concrete.</p><p>"Yes, sir." The man finally eased off on her back, allowing V to stand up. He gave her a venomous look before pointing to the street. "Get out of here."</p><p>"I don't have a way back." She croaked, still trying to catch her breath. "Please, just let me—"</p><p>"If you don't delta the fuck out of here right now, I'm putting a bullet in your head." His expression told her he was serious. The other guard was still searching the sky, shuffling from side to side.</p><p>V took two shaky steps away from the hotel before she stopped on the sidewalk and pulled out her phone. It was a quarter past ten; more than an hour had passed since she'd last messaged Frank.</p><p>
  <em>Hey Frank, security didn't let me come inside. Could you meet me at the gate?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>[Error No. 2867] Message failed to deliver.</em>
</p><p>She frowned, sent the message again.</p><p>
  <em>[Error No. 2867] Message failed to deliver.</em>
</p><p>She went to her contacts and scrolled down to where his name should have been, alphabetically. A message greeted her, glowing bright-red, sealing her fate.</p><p>
  <em>Blocked.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
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